


Three Words

by itislacey



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: First Kiss, Happy Ending, M/M, Unrequited Love, but not really, it gets resolved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2017-08-12
Packaged: 2018-12-14 12:37:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11783310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itislacey/pseuds/itislacey
Summary: Dan has a problem. He can’t tell his best friend, Phil, that he loves him. And it pains him everyday. So instead, he writes down his thoughts in a notebook. For every time Dan thinks, "I love you," he writes down why in his notebook. All 106 pages of it. Now that all the pages are full, he thinks that maybe since he has it all out in the open (for his eyes only), that maybe he would feel better.He doesn't.Especially when Phil ends up finding his notebook, and reads a few pages from it. Then he feels something like he never has before - actual heartbreak. But Phil is there to put back the pieces in a way Dan never expected.





	Three Words

**Author's Note:**

> The story sounds tragic and in a way, it is, but it has a really happy ending and I really like it. This is my first fic I've written since April, so hopefully I haven't lost my writing touch!

 

****

_Page 1_

  
_I don’t know why I’m doing this, if I’m completely honest. These kind of things are supposed to be put in diaries under lock and key, only to be read again twenty years from now when I find this book beneath other junk that I haven’t touched in two decades. But this book has no lock, and it certainly has no key. How easy it would be to spot it on my desk or wherever I choose to hide it, and open the two flaps it takes to get to the first page. **  
**_

_This page._

* * *

_My mum told me I should always tell people how I feel, because I will never know when they might be gone. I don’t plan on you being gone anytime soon. And anyways, our end doesn’t seem near. If anything, I feel like we are going to last longer. It’s only 2012, and we’re only just getting started. We’re young. We’re still not cool and I don’t think we ever will be, but I think that as long as we have each other, we can take on the world._

_Or, at least, as long as I have you, I can do anything._

_I don’t think you feel the same, and I can’t be sure if you ever will. But since I can’t exactly say, “I love you,” I write these letters._

_For every time I think those words, I will write down why. Because letting it out in some way is better than no way. Even if I never hear it back._

Dan runs his thumb over the old, worn paper, reading carefully over each word. Some words are smudged a little from the years of wear and tear, and when he messed up writing with a pen. That was his second mistake. His first was writing it down to begin with.

It had been nearly three years since that page was written. Since Dan poured a small fraction of his heart on the thin, blue lines. It conveyed so much, yet not enough. That was what the other hundred pages were for. All of them were full. Not necessarily with words of love or reasons why - some just had doodles on them or inside jokes that he would one day forget about but be reminded again when he opened the notebook because he thought those three words again and needed relief since they couldn’t be said aloud.

When he wrote on the last page - the last reason he loved him the most - he thought about buying another notebook to put confessions in. Put more reasons why he loved him in the first place. One notebook was risky enough. Two would be too much to handle. And not only that, but Dan didn’t think he had a hundred more reasons to love. There was nothing else to love because he already loved everything about . . .

Phil.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out who the words were about, even if Dan never actually wrote his name. He barely allowed himself to think it when he was writing. It was too dangerous. If he associated the words with a name, the secret would be out if anyone but Dan found it and read it. They could always draw conclusions on who it was about, but there would never be one hundred percent confirmation that it was about Phil. They would only have guesses, and from Dan’s years of experience with people, guesses drove people mad.

Maybe that’s why he was spiraling into craziness. He had always been guessing Phil’s feelings. And he would never know. Not one hundred percent. Not unless Phil told him directly to his face.

Which he won’t.

Dan knew that. It was why he found solace in his notebook in the first place.

There was a knock on his door, and he quickly scrambled to shove the black notebook in the middle drawer of his desk - the most least conspicuous drawer, in his opinion - before shouting, “Come in!”

Phil pushed through the door with a dorky smile on his face. “Come play Mario Kart with me.”

“It’s only ten in the morning,” Dan pointed out. He was usually never up this early, anyway. In fact, he was surprised that they were both up before eleven.

“You know it’s my morning routine. I already had my cereal and am trying to finish my coffee. I don’t want to play online today. Please, Dan.”

If only Phil knew how quickly Dan would do anything for him as long as he said those last two words. “Fine. But no whining when I kick your ass.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll set up your controller.” He back out of his room and closed the door behind him, leaving Dan to his thoughts once again.

Dan glanced at the drawer his notebook was shoved in, thinking about how close of a call that had been. The amount of times Phil got so close to it and didn’t even know what it was . . . What was in it . . .

_Page 13._

_This is page is probably so close to the beginning because this is actually an important part of our your day. Well, I guess it can be mine, too, but you’re the one that makes it part of your morning to play Mario Kart. Most of the time you’ve already played it before I even made it to the lounge, but there are times where you make me play it with you, or we play it on the gaming channel for our viewers. Today, however, I asked to play it with you, and of course you didn’t say no._

_You never do._

_~~I~~  Whoever is reading this page is probably wondering how playing Mario Kart equals love. It’s not the game that makes it, it’s the people that play it. No matter how many times I shout at you and call you names for hitting me with a blue shell, or ever surpassing me with a lucky bullet because you’re probably in last place, you still encourage me to do better. Next time. If you ended up winning. You don’t talk me down like I do to you, and though we both know it’s just our usual banter,  ~~I see it for what~~  you for who you are. Nice. Caring. Encouraging. You don’t get mad if you lose. You’re not a sore loser like me. I have to win everything and sometimes I’m convinced you let me win because really who falls off the track TWICE at the finish line and ends up in 10th when they were somehow in first and I was in second?_

_Love is letting the other win sometimes. Even if they don’t deserve it._

“Okay, fuck you,” Dan shouted, nearly falling off the sofa from how far off the edge he was sitting.

“I don’t choose the items, Dan! The Mario Kart Gods just give them to me.” Phil was laughing, still trying to boost his way into the top three.

“Yeah, well, your blue shell just fucked me in the ass! Now I’m in third! You’re really going to let Yoshi win?”

“He’s a CP! It hardly matters.”

“It does to my win lose record,” Dan grumbled, jerking his controller to the side to drift past Yoshi for the win. “Yes! I’m the fucking best!” He was off the couch in seconds, throwing his controller onto the sofa and watching Phil come in 5th.

“Good job,” Phil said, leaning back into the cushion. “Nothing like a little healthy competition to start the day.”

Dan scoffed. “There was hardly any competition.”

“Excuse me? I tried my best.”

“As you usually do.”

“Alright, it’s time to stop before you get too heated,” Phil teased. He turned off the console and put the controllers away, standing up tall and stretching his back. “Do we have anything of importance we need to do today?”

“I have to go to the YouTube Space for a meeting or something. Do you want to go?”

“Ew, no. I rather sit here in my Pj’s all day and do nothing.”

Dan frowned. He wished he could do that. Or maybe he wished that he could do that with Phil. That they could both just sit in their pajamas all day on the couch or in bed and watch some of their shows they’ve been slacking on. They do that sort of thing all the time, together, but it’s also not . . . together. They’re just doing the same thing at the same time. That doesn’t count, does it?

“However, I can meet you for lunch when you’re done, if you want? I’m sure I’ll be starving again by the time you’re on your way home.”

“That’s good,” Dan said, voice breaking a little. Damn his thoughts for choking him up. “Where did you want to go?”

Phil shrugged. “I’ll think about it and let you know.”

Dan nodded briefly before going back to his room. Once inside, he shut the door quietly and sank down to the ground, taking deep breaths. He didn’t know how he was still alive after this long. His heart felt like it skipped every other beat, and his breath was barely catchable. How could something so simple as meeting him out for lunch cause this kind of reaction? It almost physically hurt to love him.

_Page 27._

_You took me out to eat today. You never told me why, actually, and to this day, I’m still trying to figure it out. I thought maybe I reached a milestone somewhere, but when I checked, there was nothing._

_I thought maybe we were going to meet up with someone because it was their birthday and I had forgotten, but when we arrived and you told them two, I was lost yet again. My heart barely beat normally that whole dinner as we talked and ate. I was waiting for you to tell me I was forgetting something, and I half expected you to get mad at me for it, but when we got home and I asked you what the nice meal was for, you said, “Just because.”_

_Just because what? Because you wanted to be nice? Because you were hungry and decided to drag me along? Because you love like me enough to take me out somewhere nice?_

_I try to forget about the dinner. But every time we go out to eat, I can’t help but remember “Just because.”_

_There was a reason. You just didn’t want to tell me._

_And that’s okay. ~~I’ll just keep taking guesses.~~_

Sometimes the YouTube Space was fun to visit. Today, however, it was meetings about promotions and advertisements, all of which Dan already knew about but had no desire to sit through a meeting about again. Honestly, how many times could they talk about the same thing and run it into the ground before the company collapses? Dan often wondered how YouTube hadn’t actually failed yet. It’s been around for years. The inevitable end had to be coming soon. He just wondered where he would be standing on the other side of it.

Once all the creators were outside after the meeting, Dan heard one of them say, “I usually try to refrain talking badly about the place that pretty much employes me, but that meeting was a drag. They need to try more engaging tactics.”

Dan agreed. They were always really boring and he wasn’t sure how anyone managed to stay awake during the whole thing. Himself included.

He pulled out his cell phone and saw two messages from Phil. One of them was telling him to meet him at the cafe two blocks from their flat, and the other was just a string of emojis that made literally no sense. Dan couldn’t help but snort at them.

_Page 4._

_You would think the earliest pages would be the most important, but to me, all of them are pretty important. This might seem stupid, and honestly it probably is, but you know those moments when you will be doing something and you see or hear this one thing that just reminds you of someone and you have to tell them about it immediately?_

_I do that a lot. For you. But I never tell you right away, because I feel like I’m being a bother. Or half the time I’m already right next to you, and that’s different, but when you’re away on holiday or visiting family, I try to keep my distance. I don’t want to seem like some loner when you’re gone, even though I am, I don’t want anyone to know that._

_It’s funny because I think everyone actually already knows that. I seem to tweet more when you’re away, and I see the posts and shit that people make comparing our tweets when I’m away or when you’re away. I tweet a lot. I think that’s because I know you’ll see it, and maybe it will make you want to talk to me even though you’re busy._

_Probably not._

_But probably._

_Sometimes I don’t have to tweet anything at all, and my phone will chime and I’ll see that it’s you, and I get a little excited because I don’t know what you’re going to say but when I open it up, it’s just emojis. They don’t tell a story, they don’t relate to anything. It will be just an alien and some popcorn, and when I reply with a ?, you reply with a ^~^._

_What does that mean!?_

_Our viewers seem to have it figured out, and I think I do, too._

_You were thinking of me. And that’s all there is to it._

“I already got your order,” was the first thing Phil said when Dan pulled out the chair to sit down.

Dan arched a brow. “What if I didn’t want my usual this time?”

Phil snorted. “They don’t call it a usual because you only want it sometimes. They call it that because nine out of ten times, that’s what you want.”

Dan rolled his eyes playfully. He knew good and well that’s exactly what he was going to get when he ordered. He always did. He just wanted to give Phil a hard time.

“How was the meeting?”

“Boring. They really need to improve on them. It could have used a Phil Lester twist.”

Phil arched his brow. “A Phil Lester twist? What does that mean?”

Dan stared at him with fake shock. “You’re Phil Lester! Shouldn’t you know?”

“Shut up, Dan,” Phil laughed, his eyes squinting just enough to look closed.

Just as Dan was about to open his mouth to say something, the waitress came by with their food, setting it down in front of them and offering to refill their drinks. They both politely said no, and before she left, she said, “If there’s anything else I can get for you two, please let me know.”

“Will do, thanks!” Phil chirped, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Really, do you have to get coffee every time your eyelids so much as close? At this point, you’ll die from a caffeine overdose sometime soon.”

Phil grimaced. “You know, I’m glad we have such lovely lunch conversations about my death, Dan. Truly.” When Dan laughed, Phil’s frown deepened. “And I don’t even like talking about death! Let alone mine. It’s tragic and sad.”

“You also just described me in two words, so, too bad,” Dan grinned.

As Phil rolled his eyes, he said, “You’re the worst person in the world.”

. _Page 76_

_~~IIII~~   ~~IIII~~   ~~IIII~~   ~~IIII~~  II_

_For whatever reason, I’ve been keeping a tally of the amount of times you say you hate me or that I’m the worst. So far, I’ve counted and logged twenty-two, but I might be missing a few. I hope not, because since I can’t hear the 3 words I want to hear most, I take these ones instead. Why? Because to me, they practically mean the same thing. There are different ways to say ~~I lov~~  those 3 words, and that, my dear, is the most common way to say it without saying it ._

It was late, and it was no surprise that Phil insisted they record a video for their gaming channel.

“What are we even going to play?” Dan groaned. He just wanted to sit on the couch a do nothing. He didn’t feel like making himself look somewhat presentable for the camera. He didn’t mind playing the game, but he didn’t want to do anything else that came with it.

“I don’t know! Pick something,” Phil said.

Dan looked over at him. “Oh, no, this was your idea so you get to pick the game.”

Phil blew out a breath. “Well, I would like for you to enjoy it, too. Maybe we could do another episode of Dream Daddy? Or even the Sims?”

Both of them didn’t appeal to Dan at all. Dream Daddy would take at least an hour to record, if not more, and the Sims would most likely be half that. Why did Phil have to pick the two longest ones? “Eh . . . I’m not really feeling it.”

“But I’m bored, Dan! I want to do something!” Phil whined.

Dan immediately casted his eyes back to his computer, not wanting to see Phil’s pouty look. He would melt at it instantly and cave, agreeing to film whatever gaming video Phil wanted. Instead, he suggested, “Why don’t you go look through boxes and unpack what we have left or something? We still have more than I care to admit.”

“True,” Phil agreed. But then he got this wicked look on his face. “Or I can snoop in your room and finally see what’s in those bedside drawers.”

Dan’s face paled. He didn’t care what Phil would find in his bedside drawers. He only said that for the video to give people something to think about. It was all filled with junk. But Dan didn’t want Phil to somehow end up looking through his desk drawers, still feeling the need to snoop after finding nothing decent. His biggest secret was in one of those drawers.

When Phil saw the look on Dan’s face, he bolted from the couch and went straight for Dan’s room. He laughed as he heard Dan frantically calling after him, and could hear his socked feet thunder down the hall, chasing after him.

Dan finally reached him, and tackled him down onto his bed, breathing heavily. It’s not like he ran that far. He didn’t even go all the way across the flat and he was out of breath. “We . . . can play . . . a game,” Dan huffed.

Phil giggled beneath him, squirming out of Dan’s hold. “Got something to hide, Danny?”

“Yes,” Dan admitted. He could tell Phil didn’t expect that, as his smile faltered from the words.

He quickly regained it though and continued talking. “Oh. Okay. Good thing you’re up and wide awake to play something then.” Phil walked happily out of Dan’s room and to the gaming room.

Dan just sat there, on his bed, huffing like a complete fool. The notebook he kept was nothing but dangerous, and he really should get rid of it. Shred every page out of order. Set in on fire. Throw it in the river and let the ink bleed off the pages. Something.

But Dan knew he never could do that. Because everyone of them contained a different way to say those three words.

_Page 13_

_I don’t know how to world ended up with you. I truly don’t. You are too kind and forgiving for these decades of your life. And honestly, I don’t know how I was lucky enough to end up with you._

_I know I can talk to you about anything. You listen, you respond. Really, you should have been a therapist. You don’t push me to talk about things I’m not ready for, but you always remind me that I can when I’m ready. And even when you appear like you’re not, I know you are, because you care about me and you care what I have to say._

_I keep secrets from you. But I know you keep secrets from me. We don’t have to share what we don’t want. It’s not like we are together. Even if we were, I think you would still let me keep my secrets, and I would do my best to let you keep yours so I wasn’t being hypocritical. It would be hard, but I would do it._

_I would do it for you._

_Even when you know I’m hiding things, you let me be. You figure I would tell you if I wanted to. And you’ve even said as much._

_Again, there is not a day that goes by where I don’t thank the stars I can barely see in the cloudy, London sky at night for you. You are my best friend. And no matter what happens or where we end up, you always will be._

Dan was tired. It was nearing three in the morning, and it had been long after they filmed a gaming video. Phil was already in bed - asleep no doubt - and Dan couldn’t seem to shut off his mind long enough to doze off.

He couldn’t help but think about earlier. How close Phil was to finding his notebook. Well, he wasn’t close, but he was close to it, and that was enough to send Dan’s heart racing.

Groaning into his pillow, Dan rolled out of his bed and walked over to his desk, tripping on a number of things on his floor. When he made it to his chair, and plopped down in it, and fished around for his notebook in the second drawer. He pulled it out and tossed it on his desk, reaching over and turning on the lamp. He squinted against the light and opened up the notebook, twirling through the pages.

Each page held words upon words, all written in black ink. Some pages had more scribbles and corrections on them, while other remained perfect.

Dan wished that they were all perfect, with little to no smudging on them. It would look better that way, and maybe even appeal to Phil more if he actually ever decided to give the notebook to him.

Dan snorted. Yeah, right. As if he were ever going to give the notebook to Phil. Maybe he would put it in his coffin when he died. Most people would put a photo of them inside, Dan would put in over a hundred love letters that he would never read.

His life sounded like one big tragedy. He would never find love. Never have a family. He had the career - the money. And he supposed he did have love. Millions of people loved him, in fact, and Dan even knew that Phil loved him, but just in a different way. He would never get the romantic loved he had desperately craved since the young age of twenty-one, and he didn’t think he would be the best father ever of three children. It was all hopes and dreams. Things that would never come true.

Dan flipped to the very last page, a page marked with 106 in his own handwriting. And like every other, it was filled to the very last line. This page contained no doodles like most, and only had maybe three smudges from where he messed up or accidentally wrote Phil’s name. Because after all, the book was still supposed to be somewhat of a mystery. No one was supposed to know who the letters were for. They were for Dan to know only and for other people (if they ever read it) to guess about. As he has thought many times before, the choice was obvious, but never confirmed. And if Dan could tease anyone one last time before he went, this was how he would want to do it.

_Page 106_

_Who would have thought I would have had 106 things to say about you? Well, 106 nice things to say about you. I guess I tell you all the hateful things personally, and this book is ~~just for the nice things.~~_

_This book is . . . I’m not even sure at this point. Love letters? Things I love about you? Things I like about you? I think it’s just all the reasons that make you . . . you. All the reasons why I’m doing this._

_I did this because I’m a coward. I’m too scared to tell you how I really feel, and if my mum knew I was doing this, she would have my head for not telling you how I feel. I think the worst that can happen is that it’s really awkward when you say you don’t feel the same way, and I’m sure you would apologise 800 times because you would think it was your fault, because that’s who you are._

_It’s not your fault, though. I’m not a very likeable person. Maybe relatable, but not to you. I constantly talk about death and how sad I am. When I have bad days, I take everyone down with me. You try to help and I let you, but only so much._

_I wear all black, moan and groan when you want to do something that I don’t want to. I’m really lazy, and try to keep this ‘cool’ look about me in public because I’m terrified of how others will see me. I think if I weren’t some YouTuber with a few million subscribers, that I wouldn’t care as much. I could be more free, like you, and do things that are fun._

_It’s like that time I didn’t want to ride the carousel with our friends and I told you I didn’t want to because it wouldn’t be fun. That wasn’t it. I was afraid of being caught and made fun of by someone who knows of me. Who knows i’m 26 years old and am riding a ride made for children and toddlers who are too scared to ride bigger things or are still just too short to ride those bigger things._

_How do you do it? You are a thirty year old man who doesn’t give a fuck about the way the world sees you. It eats me alive everyday. I let the world and its people consume my thoughts, consume me. I let it control my behaviors and my outfits. I look confident, I even embraced my natural hair, but even that was eight years in the making. I’m convinced you came out of the womb with confidence._

_Maybe I like you so much because I want to be you. I want to be confident, fun, and carefree. I want to ignore the world and just live in it. I feel like you have made me a better person, and to this day, I wish I could see, for just a moment, how I would be if I didn’t have you._

_But I do have you. And I can’t lose you. Perhaps that’s why I won’t ever tell you how I feel. I don’t want to risk possibly losing you because it gets too awkward to even function. We are terrible enough as it is. I couldn’t imagine getting any worse._

_So I’ll sulk. I’ll write these things in my stupid, black notebook, and keep it somewhere with easy enough access if I’m ever having withdrawals from it._

_I think I love you._

And there, on the back cover of the notebook, where it’s just a slick, sheet of white, there’s one last sentence. Written perfectly in Dan’s handwriting.

_No, I don’t think I love you, I know I’m **in love**  with you._

Dan wasn’t sure how many times he’s actually read the last page of the notebook since he wrote it over a month ago. There were a few spots on the page that had looked like it had even rained on, and in a way, it had, but not from water from the sky.

He closed the notebook before he could add more water damage to it, and sat silently in his chair, counting his breaths.

His mum always told him love was the greatest thing, and if he were to ever find it, then cherish it. But she failed to mention how much it actually hurt. Dan felt like he was in pain, day after day. Some days it wasn’t so bad, but others felt like they would never end. He found love, but now he wished he never did.

Dan lied his head down on the notebook, closing his eyes. He wouldn’t cry today. He wouldn’t. He was stronger than this.

With a final, deep breath, Dan let his eyes flutter shut, and he fell asleep in his chair.

____

Three heavy knocks sounded on Dan’s door, and before he could jump up and fully process what was going on, Phil barged into his room, shouting his name.

“Dan! I would let you sleep until you are content but sooner or later we have to meet - oh, wow, you look horrible.”

Dan sat up from his desk, the notebook sliding off onto the floor. He didn’t even realize it had opened. Hell, he didn’t even realize he fell asleep on it. “Hmm?”

“You need to wake up. And get a shower or something. Maybe that will make you feel better.”

Dan stood up groggily, muttering, “Doubt it.” He pushed passed Phil and headed down the hall to the bathroom.

Phil stayed where he was, watching Dan slowly exit his room. Why was he being so weird lately? Phil wanted to ask him so badly, but he knew if Dan wanted him to know, he would have said something by now.

Phil sighed and sagged his shoulders. He looked back over at Dan’s desk, his eyes trailing over the messy contents of it, before his gaze finally landed on the floor - namely right on his open notebook.

He walked over to it and picked it up, ready to close it and just set it back on his desk, but the words caught his eye, and he couldn’t help but read what was on the page.

_Page 23_

_I thought it would get better. I thought writing my feelings down in this stupid notebook would help, but I think all it does is make things worse. I feel like shit. I know you will never love me, and it hurts my heart so much to know that you will never be mine. I should stop writing this. After this page. All I’m doing is reminding myself of something I can’t have, and I’m constantly reminding myself of why I ever loved you in the first place._

_It’s hard, you know.  Seeing you everyday and wishing that just out of the blue, you would say three words. Three, simple, yet meaningful words that change people’s lives. They don’t even have to be exact. I’ll take like instead of love._

_**Unrequited ~~love~~**   **like**  or one-sided  ** ~~love~~**  like is  ~~love~~  like that is not openly reciprocated or understood as such by the beloved. The beloved may not be aware of the admirer's deep and strong romantic affection, or may consciously reject it. _

_At first I never thought there was a term for the way I feel. I always thought it was just a tragic one sided love. But Google had something else to say about it._

_I’ve thought about asking you how you felt about unrequited love, but I decided against it. I like to think that maybe you’re just the half that isn’t even aware of it, because that’s such a you thing to do, but it’s also a you thing to just ignore it and hope I do, too._

_I don’t know what to do anymore. Maybe I should just move out and move on. That would be easiest for me, and I think you would let me go, not matter what shitty excuse I give you. But after much thinking, I’ll stay. I rather be your friend than nothing at all._

_Because I like you._

Phil stared at the words. Was this . . . about him? It had to be. Dan didn’t - and hasn’t - ever lived with anyone else but his parents, and Phil knows this isn’t directed at them. He feels his heart churning as he flips violently through the pages, reading line after line of Dan’s horrible handwriting.

He doesn’t get to read them all, because he’s sure there’s dozens and Dan doesn’t take super long showers. In fact, Phil hears the water turn off, and he’s quick to toss the notebook back on the floor and dash out of his room before Dan sees him, but he’s not quick enough because he ends up reading the last page; the one that’s marked 106.

He couldn’t help it as his eyes scanned over it, until they reached the last few words on the back of the notebook.

“Phil?” Dan’s choked voice asks from the doorway. “What are you . . .” He stops when he sees Phil’s eyes glued to the notebook. His notebook full of sad love notes. “You-”

“Dan,” Phil tries, but he doesn’t listen to him. He runs out of the room and across the flat. “Dan! Wait!” Phil calls, tossing the notebook aside and chasing after his friend.

Dan tears through the house, tears stinging his eyes. Phil found  _his_ notebook. He read  _his_ notebook. There was no way Dan was going to be able to look him in the eyes again and feel okay.

“Dan!” Phil called.

But Dan was out the door and running down the hall to their apartment complex, quickly jamming the button for the lift to pick him up.

The doors open and it dings just as Dan sees Phil barreling his way, and he practically leaps inside the lift and presses the lobby button along with the close doors button. But he’s not quick enough, and Phil manages to just jump inside before the doors shut, trapping them in the small space.

“Dan,” Phil wheezed. “Listen to me.” He was hunched over and out of breath, and he knew he wouldn’t have enough time to say what he wanted before the doors opened and Dan ran away from him again. He was mortified, Phil understood that. He understood why. Dan thought he had found his biggest, darkest secret he had to keep. “I can’t believe . . . you thought . . . this was unrequited.” He had never been good at starting serious conversations, but he was going to have to try and make do.

“W-What?” Dan stammered, tears silently tracking down his cheeks. “That wasn’t - you’re not - the pages -”

“Were beautiful,” Phil said, cutting him off. He turned around and pressed the button to stop the lift, and it buzzed, thinking it was an emergency. “I only read a few, but, Dan, they were-”

“What are you doing?” Dan whispered quietly. “Please, just stop. Don’t try to make me feel better. I know how you feel, and it’s not-”

“Oh, really?” Phil quirked a brow, the corner of his lips turning up slightly. “How could you possibly know that if you’ve never asked me? Dan, you have a lot of flaws, but I think assuming the worst and always looking for the negative is your worst one.”

Dan sighed. “Phil, please. I can’t listen to this right now.” His back hit the wall and he slid down until his bum touched the floor. His vision was still blurry, and he could still feel tears tracking down his cheeks.

Phil moved in front of him and crouched down, grabbing each cheek and swiping his thumbs along them, wiping away the tears. “No more crying. You don’t need to be sad, Dan, because what I’m about to tell you will probably make you angry. And not in the way you’re thinking,” he quickly added. He took a deep breath and said, “I do love you, Dan. More than you realize, obviously. I just thought I didn’t really need to say it to you, because you knew. You know that to me, marriage is just a piece of paper and romantic relationships are just . . . that. I don’t use labels, because I just  _go with it._  I thought you already knew, and that’s why I’ve never said anything. I’m really sorry, Dan. I should have known better. I know you, and I know you don’t view those things like I do. It’s not just ball and chain and all that. You’re sentimental. I’m . . . not.” Phil laughed.

Dan could only stare at him. His tongue was heavy in his mouth, and words wouldn’t come to him.

“I love you, and from now on, I’m going to tell you that even more.”

“But we . . . we don’t share beds, or kiss or -” his words were cut off when Phil’s lips pressed to his. They were soft, just like he always thought they would be. He used chapstick all the time, and it was clear he had some on now, because his lips tasted like raspberries. He was slow and delicate, taking his time exploring every crevasse and bump there was. Phil slipped his tongue inside, but not too far. Just enough to get a taste of him.

Phil pulled away, looking at Dan in awe. “You really need some chapstick, love.”

And despite it all, Dan laughed. He wiped his remaining tears away, thinking that somehow, this is all a cruel joke, but he knows Phil and he knows Phil sucks at jokes.

The buzzing from the lift had stopped, and the doors were pried open, revealing two firefighters all dressed in their uniforms.

“Bloody hell,” one of them said. “Lovers. Don’t you know what that button is actually for? Get out.”

Phil pressed his lips together, suppressing a laugh. He pulled Dan up with him, and dragged him from the lift. “Thanks, guys. It was getting really hot in there.”

The other firefighter rolled his eyes. “That button is for emergencies only. Having a private makeout session does not count.”

“We weren’t -”

“There’s a camera in there, mate,” he cut Dan off.

Dan’s cheeks turned pink, and Phil only laughed as he dragged him to the staircase, and walked him back up to their apartment.

As much as Phil wanted to read all 106 pages in Dan’s notebook, he knew better than to ask. Dan would show him if he wanted. And he sure hoped that someday, he would.

 


End file.
